Paws and Planets (4 page)

Jaru duly
reported the results of the day to the
Limokko
when it
re-emerged into communications range and then prepared to rest his
weary wings and bones. After the assisted gravity levels on board
the ship, working at full planetary gravity was very tiring. He had
some news to impart to Zanfanu, “the ship says that they have
worked out that the climate will fluctuate over the xanus ahead,
there will be numerous sets of glacial and interglacial periods in
which the climate will fluctuate between warm and cool
temperatures. Very like what we remember about Daiglon. How uncanny
is that?”

Dawn brought
the two Quorko to the water site. When the two duos emerged Jaru
noticed from Dru and Anua’s flashing eyes, half-furled wings and
erect demeanour that something of grave import had occurred. Qian
and Quort looked furious, their green hides mottling dark and
light.

In fact the
anger was bristling out of them.

All four made a
direct line to where Jaru stood waiting.

“Problems?” he
asked in a mild voice.

“Problems,”
agreed Dru and Anua whilst Qian and Quort said nothing, for
precisely a heartbeat.

“They are of no
import,” the words burst forth from Qian’s mouth and Jaru realised
at once that this was a continuation of an old argument. “This is
not a bar to us taking possession of this planet.”

“They
are
sentient,” flashed back Anua while Dru rolled his eyes.
He looked tired, Jaru also noted, this argument had probably been
going on since the two Dglai had returned to their Quorko.

“They are of
limited
sentience,” insisted Quort, challenge in his
green-skinned countenance, “well within parameters.”

“They are not
and you know it,” shouted back Dru. “You know the rules. We must
not interfere.”

“Rules must be
broken at need,” said Qian, although his visage wilted under the
withering and contemptuous look Anua gave him.

“They are of
nothing to us,” said Quort, “and they are not many. This planet is
big enough for both of us. We can live apart from them if you
insist.”

There was
contempt in his last words, Jaru realised, contempt for him and his
Lai and for Dru and his Brai.

“The rules are
old,” continued Quort, his eyes gleaming with triumph, “they no
longer apply. Daiglon is a long way away.”

“They still
do
apply,” said Zanfanu in a level voice. He turned to Jaru
and the others.

“Shouting about
it will get us nowhere. Jaru and I don’t even know what it is that
you have found. Have you found intelligent life?”

“Yes,” said Dru
and Anua.

“No,” said Qian
and Quort.

“Qian and Quort
found some creatures living at the edge of the lain,” Dru began.
“They came back when darkness came and found us waiting for them
and then they told us about what they had found. Anua and I
accompanied them back to the place when the sun came up.”

“Just
creatures,” said Qian.

Jaru raised a
wing and pointed with a fore-talon at the angry Dglai, “you’ll get
your chance to speak once Dru and Anua have finished.”

Qian subsided,
a mutinous expression on his face.

“Go on Dru,”
encouraged Jaru.

“There was a
small group of them, small, almost hairless and they walk on two
legs. They do not have wings.”

“An extended
family group I should hazard,” added Anua.

“They are
primitive,” admitted Dru with a sidelong look at Qian, “but they
have discovered how to control fire. They also work with
tools.”

“They were
living in a tipi. They had been hunting; we saw carcasses and bones
of animals,” Anua informed Jaru.

“They were
cooking a carcass on their fire,” added Dru, “when they had gone we
went over to look. They have tools of different categories, ones
with projectile points, engraving tools, knife blades, and drilling
and piercing tools.”

“Did they see
you?” asked Jaru.

“No,” said Qian
and Quort.

“They must
have,” admitted Dru and Anua, “although we tried to be as
inconspicuous and quiet as we could.” She cast a look of pure venom
at Qian and Quort and Jaru surmised that the Dglai had not even
attempted to stay out of sight.

Jaru took a
deep breath.

“They couldn’t
have helped seeing us,” insisted Anua, “Qian here didn’t make much
attempt at staying hidden. They made startled noises to each other,
I heard them and I can only assume that they were speaking in some
form of language. Then they fled deeper into the lian, picking up
their ltsctas as they went. From what I deduced from what I saw and
heard, they have more than an intuitive intelligence. We cannot
stay here. We must leave.”

“We will not,”
declared Qian and Quort, furling and unfurling their wings.

“You will so,”
thundered Jaru. “All of us will return to our respective ships.
That is an order.”

“Try and make
us,” jeered Quort. “We stay. We have already reported our findings
to the
Ammokko
and we Dglai are in agreement that we
stay.”

“I will report
our findings to the
Limokko
,” said Jaru.

“As I to the
Jamokko
,” added Dru.

It was only
when the Susas of both the
Jamokko
and the
Limokko
threatened to blast the
Ammokko
out of existence that, with
bad grace and disappointment in their very demeanour, Qian and
Quort agreed to leave.

The Dglai might
have fought one ship but even for them a two to one fight was a too
uneven contest.

A froth-filled
and noisy ferment was the only way to describe the ambience on all
three ships when the Quorkos returned.

The Dglai were
insisting that the existence of these creatures was no bar to their
colonisation. Quend, their leader, even used the word
‘conquest’.

The Brai and
Lai were insisting that the barrier was a very real one, at the
same time growing nervous about the number of times the Dglai were
using ‘conquest’ in the conversation.

“But it is
perfect,” remonstrated Quend on the ship-to-ship link. “They are
primitive. Their demise would be no loss. We Dglai will deal with
them if you are too squeamish!”

“You will not,”
insisted Laru in so loud a voice that those closest to him found it
necessary to cover their ears with their wings. “I will blast you
out of existence first.”

Expect the
unexpected was one of Laru’s mottos but even he was surprised at
what came next.

His comunit
bleeped as he was taking some well-earned rest. He learned a
heartbeat later that the
Ammokko
was making ready to depart
orbit.

“Stop them,” he
ordered. “Try to speak to them.”

“They are not
answering,” was the reply.

The Lai and the
Brai could only watch open winged as the
Ammokko
departed.

“Now what?”
asked Jaru of Laru.

He
shrugged.

Long were the
discussions between the Lai and the Brai. Both were convinced that
the
Ammokko
would return. Should they leave, after
replenishing their stores hoping they would not? Should they stay,
to guard it?

“One of us must
stay,” said Laru at least, “until at least we are sure that the
Ammokko
has gone for good. The other must carry on.” Laru
knew that this was the right decision but who should go and who
should stay? He knew that the
Limokko
was in far better
physical shape than the
Jamokko
which had sustained some
damage in a recent circumnavigation of a potential planet not far
(spatially) away but he did not want to be the one to state the
obvious.

“We will stay,”
announced Jalatou, Susa of the Brai, “but we ask you to take some
of our ltsctas with you so that if the
Ammokko
returns some
of our rtath will survive.

“So be it,”
agreed Laru, accepting this though his heart was breaking at what
he knew was in all likelihood, their final parting of the ways. He
knew this was a no win situation. If the
Ammokko
returned,
the more ruthless and bloodthirsty Dglai would destroy the Brai.
Unless Jalatou used his ship as a weapon and flew into the
Ammokko
, blowing herself up in the process the Dglai would
take over the planet. The Brai were condemned to waiting in an
endless orbit.

“If they return
we
will
stop them,” promised Jalatou.

“I know you
will,” said Laru.

The
Limokko
prepared for departure in her turn, it took some
time as the Lai took advantage of the plenty the planet below
offered and harvested liberally.

“Stay in touch
for as long as you can,” said Laru.

“We will,”
Jelatou promised and did.

The
Limokko’s
engines fired and the ship heaved her ponderous
bulk out of the planet’s orbit and towards her destiny, the Lai
never imagining how, many thousands of xanus in the future, they
would come to share a planet with the descendants of those they had
saved from oblivion.

* * * * *

The Lai never
found out what happened to the Brai. We can perhaps assume that
they stayed guarding Earth for many years replenishing their food
and water stocks from time to time before departing in their
turn.

We shall never
know for sure, but what is certain is that our fables about dragons
date from this period of pre-history.

* * * * *

“So what
happened after that?” asked Niaill, “when you arrived here, on
Rybak?”

“It wasn’t
called Rybak then,” answered Haru with a smile.

* * * * *

EPISODE 3 –
DAGAN

LANDING

“What a
beautiful planet,” breathed Saru, peering at the visuals, “and to
think that we will soon be there, breathing in its clean, fresh
air!”

He took another
breath of the recycled ship-air with a face filled to the brim with
distaste. Saru knew what real planetary air smelt like. He was one
of the few on board the
Limokko
who had actually set a talon
down on a planet during the Lai’s epic journey to find this
one.

He had been a
member of the exploratory team on two separate occasions and had
been a very young Lai when his grandfather had visited one very
similar to the one they were now orbiting. He remembered smelling
Grandfather Jaru’s clean fresh smell when he had returned on board
with the news that the planet contained primitive sentient life and
could not therefore be colonised and that after replenishing their
stocks of food, water and other items they would have to move
on.

Three times
since that day the exercise had been repeated and on two there had
been intelligent life.

On the third,
there had been no discernable intelligent life but it had been a
world of water with islands dotted throughout. The Lai were not
comfortable on water worlds. They had gathered what they could and
left.

This one they
were orbiting now, over nine hundred xanus later, was different.
Topologically it was perfect, with a large continent, large enough
for thousands of Lai to live and not to bump into each other more
than once a sun-cycle. It had polar ice packs at each end, although
the northern one was the larger. The ocean was large and populated
with many different kinds of aquatics. The landmass too teamed with
life and importantly, none of this life was obviously sentient.

Herds of
animals roamed its plains, its woods and its riverbanks, herbivores
all except for a small number of carnivores. These meat eaters were
of three types. In the north lived large clumsy beasts that walked
on four legs, as did the faster (and more vicious) animals that
co-habited these highlands. In the rest of the continent lived a
smaller carnivore which preyed on the herbivores who browsed
there.

The exploratory
team had come across groups of this third type and had found them
to be ‘interesting’ and of a ‘curious’ disposition. They had not
displayed any warlike tendencies and with their large blue-brown
eyes had watched the Lai move about from a distance.

“We go then,”
said Dakaru, furling and unfurling his wings in excitement.

“We go,” Saru
agreed, hiding his own inner excitement with great difficulty. “A
home of our own at last,” he said, grinning and regarding those Lai
standing around him. He couldn’t quite believe that after all their
trials and tribulations the time had come.

“Prepare the
Limokko
for landing,” he ordered as he glided out of the
domta-space to inform his mate about the wonderful news.

“I’ll find us
the landing site,” said Dakaru, settling down to the task.

The
Limokko
continued her rapid orbitation of the planet. Dakaru
entered in the velocity order codes to make sure that the critical
velocity speed was correct. It was a fast speed, the critical
orbital velocity was nearly thirty times the speed of sound. If the
Limokko
was to travel more slowly than this, it would
descend to a lower orbit under the influence of gravity and because
she would meet atmospheric resistance, would lose energy and
plummet to the ground. In order to make a safe landing, the
Limokko
would have to lose nearly all of this orbital
speed.

While Dakaru
was performing marvels with the little used landing computers,
great was the debate about what they would call their new planet.
Some wanted Daiglon like their home world but were shouted down by
the rest.

“This is a new
start,” cried Zahra, a friend of Saru, “so it has to have a new
name.”

The debate
began anew.